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April 19, 2010

I HEREBY GIVE NOTICE THAT I LIKE WAFFLES BUT NEVER EAT THEM

The last couple of days happened to fall on the weekend, and on the weekend most of us don't work. With this freedom I ingested far too much brewed beer and golden whiskey, topped off with a Sunday night hot Italian sausage bought off the streets, meaning today my stomach feels like it doesn't want to be involved with my body any longer and is letting me know by being a fucker. So yeah, shit day so far on the health front. Let's see what else is happening, this April 19, 2010 AD.

The weather is sunny and sort of warm. From my office window I can see that the Gardiner Expressway is flowing smooth like a cream soda down the throat of a guy on death row who needed just one more sweet can of the good stuff before he's roasted. The Rogers Centre, or "Lonely Turtle" is in its closed position and crane operators across the city are telling each other jokes using Morse Code and simple Bic lighters.

I'm wearing my new shoes again in an effort to stretch them out some more and I remember that I don't like the taste of lamb.

I finish the bag of Life Brand sea salt and malt vinegar peanuts I've been working on for a week and a half, and despite an unfavourable initial reaction (they smelled like farts when I opened them) I would for sure buy another bag next time I'm looking to peanut.

After toasting the Internet at a party on Saturday, my friends and I decided that time travel movie sequels are the best sequels - T2, Back to the Future 2, Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.

The last time I had a hot dog or sausage from the street was maybe 1.5 years ago and my body reacted in a similar fashion, which is why so much time had elapsed between chow downs. I don't want to give up these treats because I think they taste really good and I love all the toppings available, but at what price guys? The next time I get a craving and succumb I'll give you a full report, including toilet talk, and if the same thing happens I may have to give up these tubular delights, ending the Age of Hot Dogs in my personal time line.

About a guy

I'm Glenn Macaulay, writer/comedian in Toronto, the jewel of Lake Ontario. If you arrived via Google Image search, welcome, and check out glennmacaulay.com for further self-promotion.
This thing gets updated every time something scary happens to me.